This is the letter that ends Part I of my book, Natalia’s Journey. Thought y’all might like to read it; it sums up a little bit of the story, anyhow.
I have arrived safely in Paoisia, though I almost did not. You might not believe my tales of bandits, kidnappings, and stupid innkeepers. You would probably laugh and tell me jokingly that lying is not ladylike.
But it is all true.
On the second day of my journey to Paoisia, we were attacked by a band of bandits – yes, I know that sounds funny, now stop laughing. My handmaid, Leyza, was abducted, one of my guards killed, and another injured. The wounded one, Caleb, and I became very good friends.
The next day, my guards, with help from the lawkeepers of the nearest village, rescued Leyza, and we were off again toward Paoisia. We reached Mirania only yesterday, and there we were served the most magnificent veal supper you can imagine.
Today after breakfast, the guards who protected me on the way and the handmaiden who accompanied me left to return to Audrinia.
The castle is enormous. It still boggles my mind when I think about the very size of it. I know you will want to hear about my quarters, so here is a description:
White, all white. Everything is white, so much so that I fear anything I touch will get dirty. But I love it; it is like snow, and the rooms are so spacious and breathable.
How are you? How are the little ones, and your parents? How are my parents?
Have you seen Keter? How is he? If you do happen to see him, tell him I would like a letter from him. You can send it to me with yours.
I miss you all so much. Even the grumpy old hatter would be welcome company.
Oh, and I learned something about Alm. A rather disturbing discovery.
The captain of the soldiers who traveled with me – his name is Ethan – told me a story on the first night of our trip, about the nomads of the south, and a witch who summoned a dragon.
To make a long story short, I think Alm may be that same witch. Do not trust her. Do not go to her home again. And most importantly, do not speak of this to anyone. I know it makes no sense to you, but you know I would not lie. I just had to tell someone.
I wish so badly that you could be here with me. I need a friend in this huge, strange place. But perhaps one of the other Chosen will be nice, and kind, and friendly? I hope so. I have not been here long enough yet to know; I do not even know their names yet.
Someone just knocked on my door; it will be a servant fetching me for luncheon. I must go. Write to me soon!